The four women sat in the living room, pondering what to call the captive woman kneeling in front of them.

"Well, what was her name up until now?" Hailee eventually asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Catherine," her mother answered, her lips curling into a slight smirk.

Laughing aloud, Hailee shook her head. "Hah! Yeah, that's not exactly a suiting name for my slave." She emphasized the word "slave," causing Catherine to shiver in disgust and fear.

The redhead tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm...Maybe a version of her previous name? Catie...Cathy...?" She paused, her eyes narrowing.

"No. I don't want this one to feel like a person," Hailee immediately declared. “The last one was called Fuckslut. It should be at least equally degrading," she insisted.

"How about Fido?" the blonde suddenly chimed in, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "You know, like a dog. It's fitting for her status."

Hailee wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Ugh, no way. That's way too obvious. We need something more subtle."

The redhead snapped her fingers. "I've got it! What about Piggy?" she exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with malice.

Hailee's mother shook her head disapprovingly. "Absolutely not. That's even worse than Fido."

Several seconds of uncomfortable silence followed, as Catherine sat there, unable to believe her ears. These people were casually discussing a new name for her, completely erasing her past and identity. She felt sick to her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Buttslut!”, Hailee yelled out.

“Very subtle”, her mother answered jokingly.

I donn’t care! I think it fits. Or rather, It’s gonna fit”, she said with a wink.

“From now on, you will answer to Buttslut. Understood?" she said, directing her gaze at Catherine.

Catherines head sank in disbelief. These women had stripped her of her name, her dignity, and her freedom. She was no longer Catherine, but Buttslut, a pet to be toyed with and humiliated at their whim. Tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded, defeated, knowing that resistance was futile.

As the two guests departed, Catherine, now Buttslut, remained kneeling in the middle of the lavish living room, utterly disregarded by her two captors. Hailee and her mother Madeline had both wandered off to different corners of the sprawling mansion, leaving their servant alone with her thoughts. Catherine's heart raced with a mixture of fear and desperation as she contemplated her predicament.

The opulent surroundings only served to heighten her sense of isolation and despair. The plush furniture, the ornate decor, and the towering ceilings all seemed to close in on her, reminding her of the vast chasm between her former life and the reality she now faced. She’d been reduced from a mother of two, living a modest yet fulfilling existence, to a mere possession, a plaything for the whims of her captors.

As she sat there, Catherine's mind raced with memories of her daughters. She wondered if they were searching for her. They must’ve been!

The thought of them grieving her absence only added to the weight upon her shoulders. Catherine longed to hold them, to reassure them that she was alive, but the cruel reality of her situation made such a reunion seem like a distant fantasy.

Time seemed to stand still as Catherine sat there, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of hope, any glimmer of a way out. But the opulent surroundings only mocked her, reminding her of the power her captors wielded over her. The collar, a symbol of her subjugation, taunted her with its unbreakable grip, a constant reminder that her freedom was an illusion, a dream that had been snatched away from her.

After what must’ve been hours of kneeling in the opulent living room, Catherine's stomach churned with discomfort from the lavish yet unpalatable meal she had reluctantly consumed earlier.

Despite the ache in her knees and the persistent knot of fear in her chest, Catherine remained still.

Suddenly, the heavy silence was broken by the sound of a door creaking open. Hailee entered with an exaggerated yawn, her demeanor that of a bored aristocrat accustomed to having her every whim catered to. She glanced dismissively at Catherine, her gaze cold and calculating, before lazily reaching for the leash that hung from the collar around Catherine's neck. With a sharp tug, Hailee directed Catherine to rise and follow her, the leash serving as a demeaning symbol of her servitude.

They traversed through the mansion's corridors adorned with priceless artwork and shimmering chandeliers until they reached Hailee's bedroom. The room was a testament to extravagance, easily the size of four ordinary bedrooms combined. Plush carpets cushioned their steps, and the walls were adorned with framed photographs capturing Hailee in various stages of her privileged life.

In one corner of the room, Catherine's heart sank as she noticed the pet cage cage from earlier, placed conspicuously amidst the luxury. Her nights, it seemed, were to be spent mere feet away from her teenage captor, confined in the same room like a domesticated animal.

Hailee's bed dominated the center of the room, a lavish canopy draped with silk curtains and piled high with plush pillows in shades of gold and ivory. The adjoining walls boasted floor-to-ceiling windows draped with heavy velvet curtains, offering a view of the sprawling estate bathed in moonlight.

Hailee directed the middle aged woman towards the cage with a sense of entitlement.

"This is your new home now, Buttslut," Hailee declared with chilling nonchalance. She observed with detached interest as Catherine hesitantly maneuvered into the confined space, the shock collar around her neck a constant reminder of her captivity.

Hailee proceeded to undress leisurely, exchanging her elegant attire for comfortable pajamas that belied her youth and privilege. The quiet rustle of fabric filled the room, punctuated by the clinking of jewelry being set aside.

Noticing Catherine’s wary gaze, Hailee casually removed her socks and laid them atop the cage, a mundane detail in her nightly routine. "Don't worry, Buttslut," she remarked casually, her tone a unsettling mix of superiority and indifference. "I’m sure you’ll get used to it”, she said with a wink.

With that, Hailee settled into her nightly routine as if the presence of a caged woman in her room was the most natural occurrence imaginable. The soft glow of bedside lamps cast shifting shadows across the room, adding an eerie ambiance to the scene.

As Catherine settled into the cramped confines of the cage, the implications of her captivity and the surreal nature of her new reality began to sink in.

The night stretched on, the silence broken only by the occasional rustle of sheets or the soft breaths of the sleeping Hailee. Catherine lay awake, her thoughts racing amidst discomfort and fear, the weight of her predicament pressing heavily upon her.

In that private space, beneath the veil of wealth and privilege, Catherine faced the stark realization that her life had irrevocably changed—a prisoner in a gilded cage, at the mercy of a young woman whose whims dictated her fate.

Outside the bedroom window, the moon cast its silver light over the estate grounds. Catherine’s thoughts drifted to her daughters, their faces etched in her memory—a reminder of the life she once had and the fierce determination to reclaim it.

to be continued.